


your body is warm, so is my vomit

by Bradsucks



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self-Aware, Half-Life
Genre: Bestiality, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, it's a hack fraud life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25698160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bradsucks/pseuds/Bradsucks
Summary: It's that underground shit, and it's the white boy that said it.
Relationships: Tommy Coolatta/Sunkist
Comments: 42
Kudos: 9





	your body is warm, so is my vomit

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Man's Best Friend With Benefits](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684699) by Anonymous. 



> My real fans already know what's popping.

“Sunkist," he said, rubbing his foot in the dog’s fur, suddenly lonely. The fire was too hot, and the fur rug had edged towards him. Oh, Tommy was lonely, inconsolably lonely; it was years since he had had human contact. He had always been bad at finding it. It was as if men knew that his soul was gangrenous. Ideas were all very well, and he could hide in his work, forgetting for a while the real meaning of the Institute, where the Director fucked him weekly on his desk while both of them pretended they were shocking the Government and Tommy knew in his heart that what he wanted was not waning flesh but the greatest treasures of all, Beyblades, of which there is a shortage in Black Mesa.

Tommy had allowed the procedure to continue because it was his only human contact, but it horrified him to think of it. There was no care in the act, only habit and convenience. It had become something he was doing to himself.

"Oh Sunkist," he said, rubbing his neck. He got up and took his clothes off because he was hot, but left his propeller cap on for the circulation. He lay down on the far side of the dog, away from the fire, and a little away from him and began in his desolation to make love to himself.

The dog roused himself from his somnolence, shifted and turned. He put out his moley tongue. It was fat, and, as the online encyclopedia anyone can edit, Wikipedia says, vertically ridged. He began to lick Tommy.

A fat, freckled, pink and black tongue. It licked. It rasped, to a degree. It probed. It felt very warm and good and strange. What the hell did Byron do with his dog? he wondered.

He licked. He probed. Tommy might have been a flea he was searching for. He licked his nipples stiff and scoured his navel. With little nickerings Tommy moved him south.

He swung his hips to make it easy for Sunkist.

"Sunkist, Sunkist," he whispered, playing with the dog’s ears. The tongue that was muscular but also capable of lengthening itself like an eel found all Tommy’s secret places. And like no human being he had ever known it persevered in his pleasure. When he came, he whimpered, and the dog licked away his tears.

**Author's Note:**

> [For the absolute PHILISTINES in my comments section](https://imgur.com/gallery/uf3YE)


End file.
